


A Moment of Calm

by kaeorin



Series: Loki's Lullabies [170]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Avenger Loki (Marvel), Comfort, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Good Loki (Marvel), Hair, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, Insecurity, M/M, Reader-Insert, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:02:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28822647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeorin/pseuds/kaeorin
Summary: After a long day, with the world hanging heavy on your shoulders, you gather the courage to ask Loki to play with your hair. Of course he does.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Loki's Lullabies [170]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678240
Comments: 27
Kudos: 174





	A Moment of Calm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imnotrevealingmyname](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotrevealingmyname/gifts).



> So, listen. I get that there are a lot of women out there who don’t like for anyone to touch their hair. But also, like...the scalp is so sensitive. You hold so much tension there. If you’re someone who takes very good care of your curls, maybe assume that this fic takes place the night before Wash Day? Otherwise, I recognize that this fic may not include you, and I’m sorry for that. If it helps at all, I don’t make a big deal out of the texture of your hair (Loki does not remark on how silky it is or anything)? I hope this story brings you some peace and, if you can’t bring yourself to read it, I hope you find something else that works for you tonight.

This wasn’t really something you did often. Well, kind of. It certainly wasn’t uncommon for you to hover in the doorway like this, to let your eyes linger on Loki as he sat on your shabby old couch, reading something and looking absolutely perfect. _That_ was common enough. But who could blame you? Even after all this time, it still felt so strange to have him here in your space. Some mornings, you still woke up and braced yourself to find yourself alone in bed. 

But every single morning, you opened your eyes to find him right there beside you, snoring softly or—and your cheeks grew warm at the memory—gazing at you even more softly while the morning light illuminated his face.

What was much more uncommon for you was what you were trying to gather up the courage to ask him. He’d never deny you anything. You knew that much. Sometimes you barely had to breathe even the slightest hint of a request and he was already trying to fill it for you. Beneath that cool exterior, he had so much warmth and adoration to give, and everything he did, he did in a way that made it impossible for you to refuse. If you could just find your voice, you were pretty sure that he’d leap to his feet and sweep you into his arms. 

But it was difficult.

Even now, you still weren’t used to asking for things. If you couldn’t get or do something for yourself, you went without. It was that simple. You hated feeling like a burden on others. You hated those moments of uncertainty, when you had to watch someone study you and try to decide whether they were willing to inconvenience themselves for you. Even knowing that this was Loki, that he would tear entire realms apart if he thought it’d make you happy, you were hesitant. That nerve wracking “ _what if_ ’ dangled above your head like a sword on a thread.

“You’re being entirely unfair, you know.” Loki’s voice was low, and soft, but you understood him perfectly. Your ears, like the rest of you, were perfectly attuned to take him in. He closed his book and slowly lifted his gaze along your body. You fought the urge to take a step backwards. When he finally met your eyes, he gave you a brilliant smile. “Lurking in doorways where I cannot reach you. Haven’t I taught you better than that?”

Rather than attempting to sputter out some halfway-incomprehensible nonsense, you sank your teeth into your lower lip. He still gave you butterflies. Just looking at him was enough to make you feel a little bit dizzy, and forget about when he looked at you like that. When he _smiled_ at you like that. You crossed your arms in front of yourself as though you could ever need protection from him. His smile faded—but only slightly—and he tilted his head curiously at you.

“What is it, precious heart? Are you alright?” He lifted one arm in invitation, and you had already closed half the distance between you before you consciously decided to go to him. 

“I’m fine.” The words were automatic. You twisted your fingers together miserably as you stood before him. You were making things weird again. “I, um… I was wondering… Could you play with my hair? Just for a little while. It feels nice? But you don’t have to. If you want to keep reading, you know, that’s okay.”

Without a word, Loki sat forward and reached to take your hands in his. He tugged gently until he’d guided you down onto the couch beside him, and then tilted your chin upwards so he could press the gentlest kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, he was smiling. That was for you. That smile, soft and sweet, was only ever just for you. He brushed his thumb along your cheekbone and tutted quietly at you. “You know I’d never turn down the chance to get my hands on you, love, especially when you ask me like that.”

“I didn’t—I mean, I know you’re reading. I didn’t really want to interrupt.” You leaned forward in hopes of capturing his lips with yours, but at the last second, he grasped your face in his hands and scattered tiny kisses along your nose and cheeks. Could he feel how warm your face was growing under his attention? Did you care? At long last, he kissed you properly again. It was like breathing. Being around him was like breathing. Over the last few months, he had apparently become absolutely vital to your happiness. Maybe it should have scared you. But it didn’t.

“Get comfortable,” he said after a while. “How would you like to do this?”

In no time at all, you were lying there beside him on the couch with your head in his lap. Even if he did go back to reading and ignored you completely, you could be happy with this. He felt so solid. He felt so comforting. You didn’t bother trying to keep your eyes open, and you sighed with contentment. He laughed quietly and stroked your back.

“I haven’t even touched you yet. Have I been neglecting you so egregiously that all you need in order to make that sound is the bare minimum amount of contact?” But his voice held no trace of admonition, and he wasn’t teasing you. Perhaps he even sounded proud. Good. He deserved that. You rubbed your cheek against his leg and fought your smile.

“What’s the right answer? If I say yes, I’ll make you feel bad for neglecting me. If I say no, you might stop touching me.” You turned your head, then, to press a kiss to the top of his thigh. It felt a little bit silly, but it also felt right. He hummed quietly and worked his fingers through your hair. It was a little bit tangled, but of course Loki was nothing but gentle as he smoothed your hair out again.

“I will never stop touching you,” he said after a long time. The words felt heavy, like they carried a deeper meaning. “You are the sweetest gift, darling, and not once in my life have I allowed myself to consider the possibility of being loved the way you love me.” It was clear, from the way that he was speaking, that he did not quite expect any kind of response from you, which was good. You had no idea what to say. Your heart thudded wildly in your chest and you tightened your grip around his knee. It was all you could do. After a while, he was able to comb his fingers through your hair with ease—and he did. 

Silence settled between you as he stroked and caressed your hair. Just as your body began to grow accustomed to the feeling, he’d change things up and massage your scalp instead. Loki knew your body. He knew where you stored your tension and he knew how to draw it out of you. Pleasant chills ran through you, dragging your eyes closed, relaxing you. Sometimes you’d hear yourself moan softly, or whimper, but you found that there was no room here for embarrassment. Loki didn’t utter a single word about the sounds you were making. It was like he knew how vulnerable you were feeling right now. Of course he did.

Every now and then, he’d gather your hair into a loose ponytail and brush the ends of it along your neck. It almost tickled, but something about the goosebumps he was giving you made it tolerable. After he did that, you could feel him separate the pony into three sections and work it into a loose braid. The first time he did that, you braced yourself for the end of all of this—if he was braiding your hair, surely that meant he was bored with touching you and wanted to be done. But even after he finished the braid, he held it so gently. He brushed his fingers along his work, and then carefully combed the braid apart again. When he went back to running his fingers through your hair, you could have melted into his lap entirely.

Neither of you said much as he worked. You were afraid to break the silence, afraid that if you spoke up, either it’d distract you from the feelings that were flooding through your body or it’d distract him from his work. It took a while, but slowly you let go of the worry that he’d stop. He just kept going. He knew exactly how to change up his touch to keep you from becoming too accustomed to any one pattern, and he cycled through his methods. 

Here in his lap, it was hard to focus on the things that troubled you. Your brain was so full of peace and contentment that you simply couldn’t focus on the horrors of the world, or the uncertainties. You felt so small and so comfortable here, and so incredibly, incredibly loved. It made your eyes burn, a little, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let your tears fall.

“Loki… This feels so good.” Your tongue was heavy, but you needed to make sure he knew what he was doing for you. 

“I can tell.” The pride in his voice was unmistakable this time. “I rather like it when I feel you go all warm and limp like this. It is an honor to be the one who gets to do that to you.”

A new kind of shiver ran through you at that, and you did your best to hide your face in his knee. How could he do that? How could he know exactly what you were feeling strange about and then find a way to make it sound like you were doing _him_ a favor when you asked for his help? He laughed softly and moved one hand from your hair to your back. He caressed you reverently, like you were something precious. 

“What did I _ever_ do to deserve you?” you breathed. If you were speaking to anybody else, they wouldn’t have been likely to hear you, but you knew that Loki would have no trouble at all. He heard you. He saw you. Even when you tried to hide within yourself, it was like he knew exactly how you were feeling, and exactly what you needed. Like right now—you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of tears of adoration and bewilderment, but his hand on your back kept you steady. You clutched at his legs even as he continued to run his fingers through your hair.

“Ah, my darling, darling love…” His voice sounded a little rough, and he trailed off for a few moments, as though to get himself back under control. His hand slipped under the hem of your shirt so he could touch your bare skin, and you heard him draw in a long, low breath as soon as he made contact. Every tiny thing he did flooded your body with a fresh round of chills and goosebumps. “I ask myself that very question about _you_ every morning and every night.”

Peace and contentment filled the room as each of you took pleasure in one another. He was all you’d ever needed and slowly, you were beginning to come to realize, you were the same for him.


End file.
